


calling all my angels

by gorejeongin



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Broke Park Seonghwa, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Maid Park Seonghwa, Maids, Rich Jung Wooyoung, Teacher-Student Relationship, everyone appears just in varying levels of relevancy, its not a slow burn but its gonna take a while, well teacher's assistant-student relationship, wooyoung's a flirt and seonghwa's morals are being challenged
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22482106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gorejeongin/pseuds/gorejeongin
Summary: wooyoung is a gross college student who can't clean up after himself. seonghwa is a broke teacher's assistant who is neck-deep in debt. both of them stumble across the same advertisement for a maid cleaning service. you can connect the dots.( title's from angels - chase atlantic )
Relationships: Jung Wooyoung/Park Seonghwa, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 121





	1. character outlines

**Author's Note:**

> i promise this isnt the only chapter out i just wanted to give you the outlines i was working with for the characters. this is also to set the tone for what this story is working out to be.

hwa - english teacher’s assistant  
25 years old  
started working as maid bc poor  
sub ofc  
lives alone, barely exists

joong - biochem ta  
literally hates his job  
loves the students though  
is friends w everyone  
hwa’s brain  
occasional lay

woo - business major  
21  
outside house, san n yeo stay over a lot  
messy bitch  
manipulative 

san - also business  
lives on campus, mingi roommate  
chaotic neutral  
mad organised somehow  
“bitch u live like this?”

yeo - computer tech major  
pothead omg  
rooms w yunho, also pothead  
their personality is just smoking  
squares club  
no one knows how he’s still in school

yunho - graphic design  
420 friendly aha  
is the stable half of yunsang  
does commissions for money  
does yeosang’s work but he doesnt know  
fucks HARD

mingi - maths  
also squares club  
his teachers are the worst  
save him he works so hard for nothing in return  
god couldnt save him  
crushing hard on san

jongho - yunho's younger brother  
basically doesn't show up  
only in phonecalls  
freshman  
tries too hard  
doesnt know his major help him


	2. Chapter 1

junior year is a weird period in your life. you’re working both the hardest in your life and barely doing any work at all, you’re finally able to drink legally (as if you haven’t already been doing so since high school) and you’re halfway through the most stressful period of your life. 

wooyoung is taking his junior year to the nines. it’s not even halfway through the first semester and wooyoung’s hosted a party nearly every week, skipped class basically every day, and fucked almost everyone in his business major class. his name is spoken around campus as if he were a celebrity. he practically _is_ a celebrity at school. no one else has done as much as he has this year, not even the frat houses. 

there are, of course, consequences that come with being a party freak and inviting people over to his house once a week to romp for hours — his house is a fucking travesty.

there are enough clothes from strangers in his house that he could fill up a Goodwill (he honestly might, if he doesn’t consider selling it all on Poshmark). he’s found enough spare money tucked in the various odds and ends of his house to pay for more takeout meals than he could count. and that’s not to mention the amount of garbage that he hasn’t bothered to throw out. if there isn’t someone there to remind him to throw out the bulging garbage bags next to his door, he wouldn’t bother until he can’t leave his house. 

this is why he’s thankful for his best friend, choi san. a fellow classmate in the business major, as well as a friend from high school. he’s seen wooyoung at his best, worst, and everywhere in between. mostly worst. san is the brain between the two of them. the good cop. the one that keeps the two of them alive. 

after their last class, wooyoung and san both head back to woo’s room, mainly to crash after their draining business class. does their teacher EVER shut up? they could fill an encyclopedia with the number of words she prattled off within the last four hours. 

“holy _shit_ , i can’t wait to sit on your couch, the poor thing has my ass impri- what the fuck?” san was going to continue talking about the ass print he left on wooyoung’s couch, but he was interrupted by the garbage bag that he knocked over, letting it rip open to reveal enough plastic cups to kill all of the remaining sea turtles left in the world. 

“fuck! yeah, i forgot to take out the bag. help me clean this up,” wooyoung sighs to himself as he squats down to start shovelling cups and bottles back into the ripped plastic bag. he grimaces at the puddle now forming on the floor from the still-wet beverage containers. 

“wooyoung, it’s been like a week. is the house even fully cleaned?” with a groan, san reluctantly drops down to his knees to help sweep the alcohol and soda stained cups into the garbage back. with a crack of his knees, he gets back up to scan around the house. as he suspected, it’s trashed. he sighs. 

“bitch, you live like this? there are _still_ bottles on the counter. could you have not even put those away? is it _really_ that much of a stretch?" san asks with an exhausted tone, already fed up with this. 

every time san comes over, he has to help wooyoung clean. and every single time, san does all the cleaning. wooyoung is fortunate san loves him, but this is crossing the line. 

"i'm sorry, sannie. you know i'm always like this. i can always trust you to help me though, right?" wooyoung does his best 'i'll never do it again, sannie, i promise this time will be different' voice, the same one he used to convince his parents he would never drink again during high school. but his parents don't know him like san does. 

"oh fuck off wooyoung. you never help clean this shit up, dude. i'm not your fucking maid. wait... that's it! dude, i promise you to _god_ that i will never pick your shit up again and i _know_ you'll never pick any of this up. you're loaded, just get a maid!" 

"you haven't been drinking, right? like, you're not being serious? why the hell would i get a maid?” wooyoung throws san a flabbergasted look as he plops down on the couch, right on san’s ass print. pretty shallow. 

“doesn’t your family have maids? i mean, you’re rich, right?”

wooyoung threw him a dumbfounded look. 

“we’re well off, not fucking millionaires. where would i even get a maid?”

san walked over to the couch wooyoung was sitting on and sat down on the seat beside him. he threw his legs up to balance on wooyoung’s thighs. the younger didn’t shove him off, he knew it was payback for making san clean again. 

“i mean, haven’t you seen the ad on the billboard before going onto the freeway? the cleaning maid service?” san scrolls through his phone gallery before pulling up a picture of the billboard. there it was, a big busted woman in a frilly maid outfit probably ripped from a porn shoot, superimposed onto a pastel pink background with the name _Cleaning Angels_ plastered on top in ugly metallic font. the ad looks like it belongs on Craigslist more than on the entrance to a freeway. 

“dude, that’s a complete scam. fuck off. i’m not letting some old hag in a halloween costume come and sweep the dirt off my floor. you can help me, i promise i’ll pick up the slack.” wooyoung scoffs at the mere _idea_ of letting a mail-order maid into his house. who knows where his hard-earned family cash was gonna go? 

“i’m not picking up your shit anymore, woo. just check them out, i promise you it won’t be bad. i’ll even help you pay for the first what, three weeks? i’m just sick and tired of cleaning up after a mess that neither of us helped make. i _know_ you’re not that much of a shithead. 

san seemed to be genuine because woo knew how well-guarded his cash was. san doesn’t buy things until his dorm is completely devoid of food and water. 

“jeez, alright. i’ll check them out. but if the maid isn’t at least slightly hot, i’m making you suck my dick,” woo conceded, but not before knocking san’s legs off his own in faux frustration. 

“oh no, sucking dick. it’s not like i’ve already blown you maybe six or seven times, _while i was sober_ . if you’re gonna punish me, do better than that. at _least_ stick something up my ass.” 

“san, shut the fuck up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for checking out my fic! im planning to drop a chapter every 3-4 days, so maybe subscribe to stay updated? i prefer finished stories anyways but it would be cool to follow me along this journey. my (nsfw) twitter is [twt](https://twitter.com/goresnghwa) so follow if you want updates or smth? thxbye


	3. Chapter 2

seonghwa couldn’t count the amount of work he had with every hair on his body. ‘be a teacher’s assistant’, they said. ‘it will be fun’, they said. ‘you get to experience college all over again, but without the work.’ 

yeah right, without the work. 

seonghwa had to print out 30-page syllabuses for 5 classes of more than 50 kids each. out of pocket. _what the fuck._ his professor was kind enough to give him the paper, but not kind enough to allow him to print at school. “oh, you’ll waste the ink. oh, then i would just have the students print theirs. oh, i want you to suffer every single day you’ll ever be here,” seonghwa was now in debt to his own college twice. imagine that. 

“joong, i think i might actually quit. i don’t really want to be a teacher all that bad. i don’t need to use my degree for anything, i can just work retail for the rest of my life,” with his head squashed between his palms as he waits for his lunch to finish heating up, seonghwa pleads for answers from hongjoong. 

kim hongjoong is seonghwa’s brain to his...beauty. there isn’t much brawn there if he’s being honest. they were friends during their college years, and both became teacher’s assistants because they wanted to be teachers in the future, though hongjoong chose college instead of high school. his class consisted of cool science shit and a teacher who’s almost as chill as the students are. seonghwa’s luck ran out as soon as he graduated. yeah, he loves his students and he wants to be a teacher, but this gig is making him reconsider. 

“seonghwa, you’re going to do just fine. you had professor oh’s class, you know he doesn’t have that many hand-outs. this will be what, a two-or-three-time occurrence at most,” hongjoong calms him before slurping up his buckwheat noodles. seonghwa looks on in envy as he pulls his store-bought sandwich out of the microwave — a sad bacon, egg, and cheese Dunkin’ bagel. 

“yeah, but do you know how much it costs to print 7,500 sheets of paper? over $1,000. where the hell am i gonna get that kind of money? do i have to start stripping?” he whines, muting himself only slightly to bite into the mushy bagel and artificial egg. 

hongjoong whistled long and slow after hearing just how much shit seonghwa’s in. “i mean, you could? there’s a bunch of job opportunities around here, we’re literally in a college. just don’t do anything illegal, i don’t want to have to finish this shit alone.” 

“hah. well, if you see me dressed up in a questionable outfit, leave me alone,” seonghwa says, biting into his bagel once more. 

\---

seonghwa spends the rest of his afternoon looking up odd jobs but nothing seemed to pay enough. he was seriously thinking that stripping would be the way to go. he asked some of his students, who all thought he was being chased by the mafia, for advice too, but most of them suggested illegal business. seonghwa is not experienced enough to swallow balloons full of cocaine and _not_ die. 

he takes pictures of job listings on bulletin boards in the staff and student lounges to consider, and by the end of the day, he’s hit with the worst possible news. more printing. not even for a class that he helps teach. his professor is just dumping work that he doesn't want to do on him at this point. another syllabus, this time 15 pages for the freshman and only one class, but it’s still $350 more dollars. he’s starting to wonder how he ever came to like that class as a student. 

on his drive home, it hits seonghwa. a car, a car hit him. tiny fender bender, he’ll need new paint, add another few hundred under his belt. he cries a bit before driving off. 

now, what hits him this time is a job. he looks up at a billboard — tall, pink, and gaudy. a thought runs through his brain, _‘you’re not actually considering it, are you?’_ . oh yes, he is. he takes a picture, speeds home, and throws the name into google at the speed of sound. _Cleaning Angels_ . seonghwa can’t say he’s proud of it, but he knew with one look that this would be his pot of gold. each session with a client can cost from $200 to $1000, depending on what he does. is he actually considering fucking someone in a maid outfit to pay off his growing debts to his professor? _yes.  
_

he applies on their website, which is fittingly stuck in the year 2006, and gets a reply back immediately. did they even bother reading his resume? he isn’t exactly the busty porn star that they advertised on their billboard. either way, he arrives at the cleaning company’s office the next afternoon to pick up his uniform and supplies. as eerily decrepit as it was, seonghwa steeled himself and went in. 

he’s losing his mind.

pristine white walls and tiled floor, the glass window of the secretary’s office was polished to the point where it appeared to not even exist. his jaw dropped. the building was so clean, but it doesn’t even smell like cleaning products. there instead was a faint scent of fresh line, likely from a plug-in air freshener hiding somewhere. it was almost as if he found himself inside someone's hidden lair. 

the secretary, dressed in a stereotypical victorian maid uniform, called him over. "are you here for an order?" 

seonghwa cleared his throat, knowing his next line would be one of the more embarrassing things he's ever said. "no, i'm here to pick up my uniform and supplies," he felt his body temperature rise. 

"okay, i'll just need your name and i'll bring it right over," she says, perky expression never leaving her face. 

"it's park seonghwa." 

the secretary pulled up a spreadsheet on her computer and skimmed it for his name before ducking down and pulling out a box with his name scrawled on top in wide-tipped marker. 

"just let us know if you find the dress too small and we'll find you another one," she handed the box to him through the sliding glass window. 

although he shouldn't be surprised, as this was a _maid_ cleaning service after all, but the word 'dress' sent off alarms in seonghwa's head. 

"d-dress?! you guys don't have like, butler uniforms or something?" he exclaimed, setting the box down on the counter and digging through the contents. sure enough, he found a black and white dress coupled with an apron, bonnet, and thigh garter, all sitting on top off all the supplies he would have to carry with him. 

"no sir, this is exclusively a maid service. even our male employees must wear dresses. this is why we have them custom-tailored. this is why we required your measurements in the application. you're now one of the few male employees in our company. we welcome you to _Cleaning Angels._ " 

seonghwa could feel the energy leave his body as he looked down at the dress he held in his hands. at least he wasn't the only dude to stoop this low, right? plus, in order to pay off his debts, he just had to do one or two of the most expensive services. right? 

as he pondered his life choices for a brief moment, seonghwa noticed something. at the bottom of the box, he saw a clear bottle. most cleaning products were artificially coloured, weren't they? he picked up the bottle with his hand and turned it around to read the label. 

_♡~ Cleaning Angel's Exclusive Love Jelly ~♡_

lube. it was lube. 

this is fine. everything was fine. park seonghwa was absolutely _positively_ **_completely_ ** **_fine._**

right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry the chapters are so short, i promise they start to get longer after like...the third one. thank u please comment i need feedback i crave it


	4. Chapter 3

this is the sixth time wooyoung has walked from the couch to his kitchen island, to the fridge, to the mirror in the hall, and then back to the couch.

a maid? _a maid?_ he doesn’t seriously need a maid. he can just clean all of this up himself. nevermind he didn’t have wipes. or a broom. or a mop. or-

okay, he _might_ need a maid. the cheapest option was just $200. that’s pocket change to him. he could just let her in, watch her clean, maybe look up her skirt, and then be on his merry way to the rest of the week. yeah, it wasn’t that big of a deal, he’ll be fine.

woo took the time in his english class to do his research. he usually just sleeps in the back row, so doing fuck-all isn’t rare for him. the website was severely outdated and makes wooyoung feel like he’s in first grade all over again. after getting over his nostalgia blast, he checks out the fees for each service.

_$200 - Full house cleaning. Sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, dusting, and wiping of every room. +$5 for every air freshener kept.  
_

_$500 - Full house cleaning plus outdoor cleaning. Raking and watering plants, and weeding. +$30 if cleaning pool.  
_

_$1000 - Full house cleaning plus outdoor cleaning and cooking. A full three-course meal for whichever meal is appropriate during the time.  
_

_$2000 - Full house cleaning plus outdoor cleaning, cooking, and a special service~♡ +$100 for every extra special service session.  
_

special service? wooyoung figured there would be a sexual aspect to this in some way, but $2000? he could buy san lunch and he’d at the very least suck his dick. it’s still a $1000 increase from the previous tier. what could possibly warrant another grand?

wooyoung didn’t notice that someone was standing beside his seat until they cleared their throat. he jumped and slammed his laptop shut,

“oh, mr. park. hey. i did _not_ notice you there. haha…” wooyoung can feel the blood fill his skin with colour as he addresses the TA.

“i hope i didn’t catch you watching porn. i do _not_ want to deal with that, especially today,” seonghwa sighs, pulling a packet out from the stack on his arms to put on the surface of wooyoung’s hopefully not shattered laptop.

the flush on woo’s face dyes itself another shade darker.

“oh god no! i’m not a freak like that. i can promise you it was not porn, on my mother’s cold dead heart.”

wooyoung paints a serious look on his face, sticking out his pinky finger and looking up and seonghwa, brows furrowed in absolute seriousness. no funny business.

seonghwa cracks a smile and huffs a laugh out of his nose, reaching down to wrap his pinky in woo’s.

when seonghwa leaves, woo opens his laptop again and moves to place an order. this was the first order, and this place already looks sketch as hell, so $200 is probably his best bet. god, he hopes the charge doesn’t end up looking as sus as what he’s actually doing. he confirms the order for saturday afternoon, which is probably when he’ll wake up after his blackout. at least, he hopes he wakes up.

he’ll leave the key in his mailbox outside.

\---

now $2500 in the hole, seonghwa’s now genuinely considering fucking his customers. as he’s passing out papers and making an outline for the next day’s lesson, he thinks about the stuff in the box the secretary gave him yesterday. a lot of the more heavy-duty stuff would be kept in one of the vans the company would give him on his trips, but it wasn’t any of the cleaning supplies that kept plaguing his mind.

it was that fucking dress.

that frilly, poofy, actually high-quality maid dress. he hadn’t put it on yet, but he probably should soon before his first job later that week. it didn’t seem small, taking up almost the entire face of the box in width. everything he saw reminded him of it.

the papers he was handing out? the white reminds him of the ruffly tutu skirt. the black matte finish of his desk? the soft black fabric that encompasses said skirt. some girl’s fleece hoodie is the same colour yellow as the feather duster they gave him and another boy’s water bottle was the same shape as the special _love jelly_. god, that fucking love jelly. 

after a pitiful drive home, another $200 printing bill under his belt, and a strong craving for a shot or twelve of whiskey, seonghwa slams the door shut and slides his back down along the wooden surface. he was so tired of dealing with all this bullshit. begrudgingly, he got off his ass and walked over to his bed to lay his jacket and bag.

the dress.

seonghwa's head whipped towards the cardboard box, pulling him out of his depressed stupor. it seemed to glow in the dim light of his dark apartment. his feet moved on their own, taking him towards the table. the container was daunting, almost like the story of the sword in the stone. hey, didn't some dude pull the sword out at Disneyworld or something?

after his young adult story monologue, seonghwa pushed the flaps of the box out of the way. yep, the dress is still there. taunting him. using all the strength left in his soul, he picks up the dress and all its extremities. they were soft, comfortingly so. and they smelled dry-cleaned.

he put on the headpiece first, deciding to eventually put on that damned dress after building up his strength. it fit snuggly on his head, sitting behind his fringe that he painstakingly styles every day even though hongjoong just tells him to ‘stop bothering with it’. not after working on it every day since senior year of high school he’s not. he stares in his wall mirror that is not nailed to any wall and instead leaning against the edge of his kitchen countertop. the white contrasted nicely with his pitch-black hair.

the only other piece to put on is the thigh garter. he isn’t prepared to put on the dress yet. maybe after a bath. and a drink. a drink sounds good. seonghwa pulls out his secretly stashed bottle of jack daniels from under the bottom of his bedside cabinet and takes one or two swigs before turning on the bath pipe. he doesn’t remember if he has work to do or not, but it’s none of his concern now. it’s friday afternoon, so he has the weekend off to drink and binge eat and cry to himself as he looks out the window and sees his front bumper dented, a perfect metaphor for his mental state right now.

he looks at himself in the bathroom mirror, foggy from the steam of the warm water filling his tub. should he wear makeup? he had been blessed with clear skin and sharp features, and his bangs helped to frame his face well. maybe a bit of lip gloss or tint? blush? he never worried about his looks this much for a job before. that’s when it occurred to him.

he was almost perfect for the job.

he had an absurd eye for detail, loved to clean, and would do anything for money. that’s not to mention the physical advantages, being tall and lean and pretty to boot. the short dress would highlight his long legs and tight waist, the black garter standing out on his pale and hairless skin. he’d look hot, he thinks.

after the long drunken bath, which may or may not have included a quick masturbation session, seonghwa found the nerve to put on the garter. it was tight around his thigh, causing the surrounding flesh to bulge outwards. he never realised how squishy his thighs were. he was clad in just his underwear and the garter, leaving the rest of his body to enjoy for himself in lonesome. the dress was laying over the arm of his loveseat, tantalisingly close. seonghwa’s getting-drunk-to-do-things method was made for this type of scenario because he was now _ecstatic_ to put the dress on.

the fabric felt like silk to his fingertips and his freezing body felt on fire holding the garment. as he pulled the dress over his head, the soft cloth he now realised was velvet felt caressed his skin and fit taught over his chest and shoulders. he tied the accompanying apron around his waist and watched as the dress began to hug his figure in all the right places.

seonghwa let out a hot breath, eyeing his reflection. _fuck_ , he thought, _i didn’t think i’d look this good. or feel this good either. i guess that’s a good thing? i hope so._

  
he thinks about all the pathways this could go down. if he thinks he’s hot, what about other people. he honestly looks really fuckable right now, especially with the red flush of his skin from the bath and the alcohol. was he really gonna get laid from this job? if he was being honest, _he really didn’t mind._


	5. Chapter 4

holy _fuck_ , that party was rough. wooyoung head was throbbing, almost as if his heartbeat was in his head. all he could smell was sweat, cigarettes, and cheap liquor. his blinds were closed, thankfully, so he could get out of bed without being blinded by the vengefulness of god punishing him for his debauchery. the analogue clock on the doorway to the kitchen said it was 6:37pm. wooyoung doesn’t know why he always checks this clock when he gets up, because it’s said the same time for the last three years. the digital clock on his stove said it was a quarter to 1 pm, so he has a few minutes before that sketchy ass website sends their maid. 

wooyoung wracks his brain as he tries to remember the events of last night. he didn’t particularly drink more than usual, but somehow everything was a blur. he slides some half-empty solo cups over to pull his toaster out, remembering his mom telling him to pull the toaster out from below the cupboards if he didn’t want to burn the house down. he still doesn’t know how that could cause a fire, but he would rather be dumb that die from a toaster fire. two slices of potato bread stuck in the toaster later, wooyoung’s brushing his teeth. the grime of parties is also one of the things he doesn’t very much favour. the mornings would feel better if he wasn’t hungover to shit. a shower would feel _so_ good right now. toothbrush still in mouth, wooyoung locks his door and runs the pipe, letting the small bathroom to progressively get foggier. 

wooyoung might be a gross college boy who throws parties way more often than needed, but he has a sense of personal hygiene. he is actually one of the more hygienic members of his friend group. compared to, say, yeosang, the pothead good-for-nothing that he met in his freshman year english class. it’s a miracle he made it past freshman year, considering he doesn’t even get up to brush his teeth sometimes. his roommate yunho is the only reason he showers daily, and probably also the reason he’s passing. yunho knows _way_ too much about the insides of a computer for a graphic design major, but everyone knows he does it because he’s whipped for the little pothead. when yeosang comes over because yunho needs the room to pack boxes of his prints and charms, wooyoung forces him to shower and brush his teeth the minute he walks in. even if yeosang swears he just showered, and even if he _did_ just shower. yeosang got revenge by hotboxing the bathroom and making wooyoung’s shower curtain smell like weed. damn. 

mingi… mingi’s too functional for someone in his state. wooyoung’s never seen mingi not doing work, but he’s also never seen him with anything higher than a D average. the entire STEM major community is suffering at his school, but the maths branch don’t seem to be alive. mingi constantly complains about how he studies his ass off and somehow his teacher still manages to find flaws in his work. apparently there was this one time the teacher gave mingi points off half his questions because he switched from a 0.7mm pencil to a 0.5mm pencil midway through one of his exams. he apparently said “if you can’t stay consistent throughout your work, you’ll never be able to work in the math field.” which caused mingi to cry (loudly) the entire night. he heard the entire story from san while they were fucking because san had to find some excuse to leave the room and threatening to start jerking off in front of him didn’t seem to work. san swore he heard mingi start crying harder as soon as he left. 

woo snaps back into reality when he hears footsteps pass by the bathroom door. did san come over? but san had a morning class today, he remembers the skunk-head telling him so while throwing back 3 shots at once and coughing into the sink for the next 5 minutes. it’s amazing how san never wakes up with a hangover. is it yeosang? he _definitely_ shouldn’t be here. he’s probably in a weed coma in his room, possibly joined by yunho considering he just finished his commissions and should be relieving his stress with an unrequited handjob. what, did mingi start visiting? wooyoung turns the pipe off and rubs the water out of his hair with his towel before wrapping it around his waist. padding as lightly and quietly as his sopping wet feet would allow him, wooyoung peeked outside the bathroom door. he did _not_ want to die naked. at least, not this young. 

_oh._

there she was. the maid he ordered to clean his place during his english class. she had quite short hair and broad shoulders but her legs were long and soft-looking. she was bent over, cleaning his coffee table, something of a victim of his various parties over the years. the way her upper body bobbed back and forth as she scrubbed the rings off of the glass reminded wooyoung of a certain motion he was too familiar with, although it was accompanied by a lot of noise and a lot more mess. a wry grin grew on his face. he was way above inappropriate groping, considering touching these girls came with a fee and also that he wasn’t a fucking sex offender. instead, he opted for something less scummy — catcalling

“wow, babe. didn’t expect this to be the first thing i see in the morning. can’t say i’m mad,” wooyoung’s voice wet with allure. he braces his arm against the wall next to him in an attempt to look as seductive as someone basically naked could look. the woman on her knees jolted and whipped her head around. well, his head around. wooyoung felt the wind get punched out of him. 

there on his knees, in the middle of wooyoung’s apartment, was park seonghwa. wooyoung’s teacher’s assistant. _in a maid dress_ . oh my god. seonghwa flushes, all the way down to his legs wooyoung notices, and scrambles to get onto his feet while looking for a place to stare at that _wasn’t_ his student’s scantily clad body. 

“seonghwa.”

“wooyoung.”

a thick and heavy silence, like a blanket of snow, fell between them as they both tried to figure out what to say. wooyoung was almost fully dry now, and seonghwa’s blush had fled in favour of a sheet of goosebumps that come and go. he’d never been this lightly clothed before, and the skirt had given him the opportunity for a whole new set of sensations blessing his thighs. god, his legs were cold. 

“so… are you gonna finish?” wooyoung inquires, his expression changing as if nothing odd was happening. 

“what?” 

“are you gonna finish cleaning. i paid the money, you better. this place is a shitshow if you couldn’t tell, and i’m not gonna clean it when there’s someone here that’s much better suited for the job,” he explained nonchalantly, as if nothing odd was happening. as if his fucking TA wasn’t standing in front of him in a tiny maid dress and a thigh garter and a bonnet and an apron and _oh my god his legs are so smooth looking_. 

“i- uh… i mean, yeah, i have to. i’m obviously not doing this because i thought it’d be fun,” seonghwa stutters out a reply, really trying not to look at wooyoung’s thick thighs and smooth chest and how the towel is hung so low on his hips. 

“oh really, i thought you would be excited to be on your knees cleaning random stranger’s coffee tables. or just on your knees, if they pay you $2000,” the smirk on wooyoung’s voice was audible as he pitched his voice towards the end of the sentence. 

seonghwa rolls his eyes. “you’re saying that as if anyone’s gonna pay that much for this sketchy ass service.”

“but what if someone does. would you do it? would you really have sex with someone if they paid you for it?” wooyoung starts stalking closer, staring seonghwa directly in the eyes. 

“y-yeah. it’s my job, i have to,” seonghwa tries to bite back, but his voice wavers as the younger keeps getting closer. his feet stride backwards, but he knows that the coffee table he was wiping down is only a few steps away. he ticks his head back to check, and at that moment his calves hit the table and he has no choice but to sit on it. 

“but you wouldn’t enjoy it, right? you wouldn’t enjoy some sloppy old man fucking you, or some lonely single milf. what if it was someone younger? someone leaner, thinner, more energetic? someone with _a lot of money?_ ”

seonghwa’s breath hastens as wooyoung gets closer, eventually looming over him and pinning him down to the table between his arms. their faces were a hair’s breadth away, seonghwa able to feel wooyoung’s body heat radiating off of him. he was still hot from the shower. he’s hot. 

wooyoung didn’t really have any interest in screwing seonghwa if he was being honest. he just found it _super_ funny that his TA was a maid. he also just recently found out that humiliating seonghwa was even funnier, as the flushed look on his hyung’s face was almost too much for him to bear. he’s not sure how seonghwa was taking it, though. judging from the heavy breathing and the intense shade of red, wooyoung begins to think he overdid it. awh, the fun’s over, he guesses. reluctantly, he backs away from the elder, letting out a laugh to signify that he was joking about fucking him. well, it _would_ be fun to see how far he could push this. 

“calm down, i was kidding. well, maybe i wasn’t. but i'm not fucking you today. i just need you to clean this place up and we’ll be done. if you do well, maybe i’ll hire you again. and maybe i’ll up the price, too.” 

“what? that’s the outdoor cleaning package. what the hell am i gonna clean, the hallway?” 

wooyoung huffed out a laugh. “listen, i’ve got money to spare, and you _obviously_ don’t-”

“rude.”

“ _so…_ i’m helping you out. let’s say in trade for the extra $300, you help me out in english class. write one of my essays or let something slide, i dunno.”

“are you bribing your teacher’s assistant? i’m pretty sure it’s a crime to pay your way through college, woo,” seonghwa looked vaguely disappointed, it’s like he forgot they weren’t TA and student at the moment, and are more akin to master and servant.

“i mean you don’t have to do it, and i can just tell everyone you’re working as a call-in maid that dresses up in tiny skirts and thigh garters on the side,” wooyoung’s voice sank deeper again, walking close and resting his hand on the garter caressing seonghwa’s thigh, fingers intentionally brushing everywhere _but_ the accessory. 

more content with his current situation than earlier, seonghwa manages to not trip over his words this time. “how are you gonna prove it, huh? you think everyone’s gonna just believe you through word of mouth?”

“i have security cameras set up.”

“i’ll do it.”

\---

the rest of their time was spent with idle chatter and wooyoung’s painful flirting. seonghwa couldn’t count the number of times wooyoung said something sexual about his thighs with all the empty plastic cups in this house. seonghwa was actually beginning to wonder if his legs were really all that. people never really commented on them before. maybe wooyoung just has a fetish? 

“you know, i can see the bottoms of your boxers peeking below the hem of your skirt. maybe some panties would do the trick, don’t you think?” woo cooed, watching seonghwa on his hands and knees wiping the floor with a washcloth. hearing this, seonghwa got up and started wiping by putting his foot on the cloth, staring at his student with his arms crossed.

“i can file you for sexual assault, you know,” seonghwa answered in a monotone voice, doing his best to not entertain any fantasies. 

“i wouldn’t do anything without your consent. i’m not some psi kappa beta epsilon frat-house prick. i like to respect the people i plan to have sex with,” wooyoung stirred his cup of black coffee, doing literally nothing to it since it was, y’know, black coffee. 

“having sex with me? i’ll see you when angels start falling down from heaven.”

“why? there’s already one right in front of me.”

"oh my _god._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so maybe all these chapters have been prewritten but im really busy and i have barely started chapter 5 hahaha hahah hahaha haahahah hah...


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sososososososo sorry im late with this update, ive just had such a shit week and couldn't focus on writing. this chapter is extra long to make up for it, and a little bit spicy too! please enjoy and leave some feedback. it's also unbeta'd because i literally just finished writing it so i apologise if it sounds dumb

seonghwa,  _ focus. _

that horny college boy is  _ not _ going to be your downfall, mister. you just haven’t had sex in a while. maybe you can call hongjoong and he can dress up in that cute kitty lace outfit you always wanted to try wea- 

oh, what was he kidding. wooyoung was so hot, hair still dripping and water slipping underneath his towel every now again, his wide chest and shoulders, and the ghost of a set of abs, either now developing or just leaving. either way, seonghwa couldn’t think straight. why, out of ALL the people that could have been his first client, did it have to be wooyoung. jung wooyoung, the rich business major that can’t  _ not _ have a party at least once a week. did  _ the _ jung wooyoung want to have sex with him? while he’d definitely risk his job as a teacher’s assistant, god did that opportunity look nice. but he can’t. wooyoung was a student, and not to mention a huge dick. 

seonghwa wonders if wooyoung has a huge dick. 

\---

after giving it some thought, maybe wooyoung does wanna fuck seonghwa. 

as he’s brushing his teeth, 3pm on a sunday afternoon, he thinks back to seonghwa. he noticed the older had makeup on. his lips were shiny and a tinge pinker than natural, and there was a blush on his cheek and nose than never changed. his eyelids were also slightly red, and maybe he had mascara on too. even though he came nose-to-nose with seonghwa, he couldn’t remember much of what he saw. 

after his face came his figure. the dress seemed to be tailored to his body, hugging his skin even a bit too tightly. around his waist, the dress was tied off so he could see his entire body line. seonghwa had a narrow and lean waist, coupled with broad shoulders and descending down to the thick thighs that laid exposed past his dress. that thigh garter made wooyoung’s head spin, even if it was just elastic and cloth sewn together. 

a knock on the front door sent wooyoung’s horny monkey brain back to earth. spitting out the toothpaste froth and wiping his mouth off, wooyoung wobbled to the front door. 

“ew, it’s you.” 

“fuck you too, wooyoung.” 

san welcomed himself in, locking the door behind him and taking his shoes off like a civilized person. wooyoung realised that seonghwa never took his shoes off. they were probably new anyways. 

“wow, this place is actually clean. did you use that maid service i told you about?” san makes himself comfortable on his butt crease in the couch again. wooyoung doesn’t know how san manages to convince himself that there’s a crease. 

“yep. i sure did. man, the maid i got was  _ so hot _ . look, i got a picture with them,” woo plopped himself beside san, making an  _ actual _ crease in the cushion and pulled up a photo on his phone. it was a picture of wooyoung and seonghwa from the last day of sophomore year, posing outside in front of the school building. 

“dude, that’s a picture of you and seonghwa.” 

“yeah, i know.”

“what? what are you talki-  _ holy shit. _ are you serious, it was seonghwa?” san twisted his body to face wooyoung, looking him dead in the eyes with a sceptical expression.

“dead ass. i can show you the security cam footage. frilly dress and  _ everything _ . he actually looked really pretty.”

another smirk grew on san’s face. “what, are you hot for teacher now?”

“one, seonghwa’s been hot. two, putting him in a maid outfit? with his long ass legs and broad shoulders? dude, i had to force myself to not pop a chub. i  _ just _ got out of the shower when i saw him,” wooyoung relayed, smile evident in his voice. 

“i know this type of conversation isn’t new to me, but  _ please _ stop talking about wanting to fuck seonghwa.”

wooyoung sighed, getting up to pull some odd frozen food out of his freezer. maybe it would be pizza bagels, maybe it would be a frozen lamb chop. every day is a surprise in this house. 

“I’m gonna ask him to come by again next saturday,” wooyoung shouts out as he pulls out a cardboard box so frosted over he can’t even read the label. he can hear san pitter-patter over to the kitchen and sit down at the island, all too calm for the way he replies. 

“you’re gonna fucking  **_what_ ** ?” he all but shrieks, hitting his hands on the counter as if he didn’t just wobble over here in his fuzzy socks. 

“i’m ordering him again. he did a pretty good job and he needs the cash. i’m upping his pay too, in trade he’ll write one of my essays for me.” frozen bricks of artificial food fall onto a baking tray that wooyoung shoves into his oven, not preheated. he’ll find out what it is when it’s finished cooking. 

“you’re having seonghwa clean your house  _ and _ do your schoolwork? is he gonna start bathing you too? actually, don’t answer that. i know you’ll just make some perverted jokes about him feeling you up.” 

“god...imagine  _ the _ seonghwa feeling you up. his big hands sliding over your skin, teasing as he slowly gets lower down your body. his face flushing red as he reaches down to your cock and strokes it clean. the material of his dress getting wet and sticking to his body as your body gets closer and closer to his until you’re laying on top of him, close enough to kiss and bite his neck.” wooyoung voices his fantasies out loud as he leans against the countertop, vaguely brushing his hand against his chest to brush away any nerves in his skin that began to tingle as his thoughts raced. 

“woo,  _ please. _ if you’re gonna get horny, don’t do it while making breakfast. i don’t want to have to run to the kitchen to put out your burnt whatever-the-fucks in the oven.” san groans at the other, rolling his eyes at how he was relishing in his thoughts. 

wooyoung smirks. “oh, were you planning on helping me out? i thought we weren’t casual fucks anymore? ever since you found out mingi was crushing hard on you and you ‘didn’t want to hurt the poor sap’.”

san scoffs at the younger. “i’m not actually interested in him. i just stopped telling him i’m coming over to your place. if you want to fuck that seonghwa of yours instead, though, i could try out mingi. his cock is fucking huge, i probably wouldn’t be able to walk after a romp with him.”

wooyoung knew this game. san would always make him jealous before he wanted a quickie. he knew wooyoung put his emotions into sex. luckily for him, wooyoung was willing to comply. the younger rounded the counter, approaching san with a heady look in his eyes. 

“if you wanted to fuck, you could have just asked. or did you want to get me jealous first so i’d be rough with you? you always know how to act like such a conniving slut.” wooyoung’s gaze dug into san’s skin, causing the older’s body to subtly shudder. 

“what are you gonna do about it then?” san teased, stepping up and closing the gap between the two and stretching his arm down to palm wooyoung from above his sweatpants. the younger was already getting hard just from imagining his sultry elder. 

the two have danced this dance before, their first time together was the night of the homecoming dance sophomore year of high school. they both bailed on the dance, figuring the dance was gonna suck after being there for only a half-hour. they got wasted in wooyoung’s room and after watching some dumb movie, wooyoung began cuddling closer and closer into san’s body. their legs tangled together and the room getting hotter from the duo’s breath. wooyoung took the dive, latching his mouth onto san’s neck and beginning the two’s spiral into debauchery. 

college-age woosan were now stumbling down the hall in hopes of eventually reaching the bed, but it wasn’t a promise. the two have christened every part of wooyoung’s place over the years, the hall becoming their third most common fuck place next to the bed and the couch. san’s mouth was occupied with biting bruises into wooyoung’s neck and chest, his hand busy fisting the younger’s cock from beneath his sweats. of course wooyoung didn’t wear underwear to sleep. 

wooyoung pulled his pants down, letting his cock be embraced by the cool air of his apartment. san’s mouth travelled down his body until eventually landing on the younger’s loins. the warm contact caused wooyoung to hiss in relief. san takes the entire length in his mouth and shortly after wooyoung releases into the older’s mouth. he return the favour, letting san cum onto his face like the older always prefers. 

“hey, didn’t you just take a shower?” san asks, swiping some of his own cum off of woo’s face with a thumb and sucking it off. god, he’s such a whore. 

wooyoung sighs as he gets off of his knees, copying the other and wiping a sticky droplet off of his brow and feeding it to san. “nah, i only got up like a half hour ago. care to join me?”

“god, you’re so horny. i pity seonghwa.”

\---

seonghwa hates this building. how can they take such good care of it inside but leave the outside looking like utter shit. maybe to prevent the government from sniffing around. or to keep them on the down low. isn’t that the same thing, though? 

he walks into the place, seeing the same lady standing at the front desk but with a different hairstyle. he wonders if she also works as a maid or just as a secretary. 

“uh, hi. i’m here to pick up my payment?” seonghwa tells her, though his awkward inflection left it sounding more like a request. 

“ah, yes. seonghwa, was it? it just came in today, i’ll go get it, along with the new supplies you’ll need now that you’ll be a recurring employee.” she says before turning away and walking out the door in the back of the walled-off desk. other supplies? he guesses it makes sense, they don’t want employees running off with valuable supplies. 

the secretary returns (seonghwa should probably learn her name if he’s gonna be seeing her this often) with another cardboard box, this time with just a strip of tape holding it closed with seonghwa’s name scrawled on it. 

“your next job has already been scheduled too, by the previous customer. the same time as last, they said you ‘provided an incredible service’ and that you were ‘a breathtaking view and a wonderful conversationer’ and begged us to send you again,” she quoted, exaggerating all the parts she was quoting and ending with a small huff reminiscent of a laugh. seonghwa rolled his eyes. 

“i’ll be sure to thank him for the rave reviews when i get there. what’s in the box?” he asked

“just the branded versions of all the cleaning supplies. i'm pretty sure it’s just name brand stuff rebottled, but i’m not paid enough to lie. you can just keep the previous stuff we gave you, by the way.” her replies have slowly been getting less formal, something that gave seonghwa a warm feeling in his stomach. probably happiness, but he doesn’t know what that feels like anymore after his professor bombed him with work. 

seonghwa picked up the box and stuffed the envelope with his paycheck in his back pants pocket. “alright. thanks again…”

“it’s sihyeon.”

“thanks again. sihyeon.”

there was a slight pep in his step. he was thankful he made a friend, or at least a work acquaintance, because hongjoong (and he guesses wooyoung) were really the only people he talked to. he wouldn’t see her until the next time he worked, but it was nice having a superior to guide him. he didn’t know any other TA’s and hongjoong was younger than him, and he  _ definitely _ isn’t asking his professor for advice. 

he kicked his door open, knowing that his lock didn’t even work anymore. he wasn’t noteworthy enough to rob, all the kleptos in the building already tried. the box on his table was promptly shoved off and replaced with another box. he cut it open with his door key and his heart dropped out of his ass.

on top of all the cleaning supplies, now smacked with  _ Cleaning Angels _ branded labels, were four things. 

one, four-inch black heels. he’s already pretty tall, so he will have to forsake these ankle-breakers. he still tries them on, and the glossy black material looks nice against his feet. the strap across his ankle reminds him of how a choker would look around his neck.

two, fishnet and dark see-through thigh high socks. he actually liked the aesthetic of the fishnets with his mary janes, and if he ever considered wearing the heels he knows will be put in the deepest part of his closet, they wouldn’t look bad together. 

three, a set of chokers. one had nothing but a little bow attached to it, string skinnier than the actual choker itself. another was one of those o-ring chokers he’s seen so often on aesthetic mood boards that crosses his instagram feed. the third was a half-chain half-leather choker, which looked quite comfortable if he was being honest. the last one was a lace choker with a big fake gem in the middle and small chains running to and fro. out of all of them, this one seemed most on theme for him with the whole victorian maid thing he already had going. 

four, and this one was the kicker, was a panty and garter set. seonghwa wanted to jump out of a window. as soon as he laid eyes on it, he picked up his phone and dialed the number for his workplace. 

_ “hello, this is Cleaning Angels~ how may I be of your assistance, master?” _

_ “sihyeon, are those panties and shit part of the uniform?” _

_ “oh, seonghwa. yeah, they kinda are. sorry to break it to you, my guy. at least they’ll be in your size. tell me if they crush your nuts and i’ll get new ones tailored for you. bye.” _

_ “wait- sihyeon? hello, sihyeon.”  _

seonghwa really was gonna cry. 

\---

dreaded saturday came earlier than seonghwa wanted it to. his hand wavered as he regretfully knocked on wooyoung’s door. his legs were wrapped in the fishnets and his adam’s apple caught on the half-chain choker. he also forewent the bonnet they gave him, figuring it clashed with his slightly edgy outfit. hey, he hated his job but he was at least gonna have some fun getting dressed for it. 

“hello- oh,  _ hello. _ come on in, sweetheart.” wooyoung cut himself off as he caught seonghwa in his sights, raking his eyes up and down the elder’s body. seonghwa’s skin crawled as he watched the other’s gaze moved. 

“just let me in already. i don’t need any more people seeing me like this.” seonghwa had a sour and pitiful expression on his face, visibly annoyed at being out in public like this. yes, dressing up like this excited him more than he wanted it to, but he didn’t enjoy the looks of the people he passed by on the way up. 

wooyoung stepped aside and seonghwa walked in with a pace too fast for how short of a distance he was walking. the place was again, trashed, but a lot less than before. the floor wasn’t cluttered with random clothes and food, but still had stray stains and cups for seonghwa to pick up. 

“did you clean up beforehand?” seonghwa asked, looking around as he took his various cleaning products out of the bucket his company provided, a tacky shade of pink too bright for its own good. 

“just the stuff i plan on giving away or got in my way while i was walking. i’m still paying you to clean up, not just for company. oh, speaking of company, i have someone coming over soon so try cleaning up the floor first.” wooyoung walked back into his kitchen, pulling a bottle of ice tea out and cracking it open.

seonghwa stops dead in his tracks. “what? you’re having someone over?” 

“i already told him about you, he isn’t gonna snitch. don’t get your panties in a twist.” wooyoung brushes his concern off, taking a sip.

panties. seonghwa’s eyes widen slightly but he catchs himself and stills his expression. you could see the straps of the black garter belt holding up his fishnet socks, but the panties were still hidden underneath his skirt. god, he hopes wooyoung didn’t notice his face change, or the blush creeping up his neck as he continued to think about it. 

“what, why do you look shocked. wait,  _ waitwaitwait, _ you’re not  _ actually _ wearing panties, are you? i said it last time as a joke, i didn’t expect you to take it to heart. i’m flattered, actually.” the grin on wooyoung’s face was humiliating. he put his glass down with a tad too much force, causing some of the drink to slosh out over the sides, and practically skipped over to seonghwa.

“sh- shut up! it’s part of the uniform. i wouldn’t take anything out of your pervy little mouth to heart,” seonghwa stuttered out, gripping the hem of his skirt as an outlet for the flurry of emotions swarming inside of him.

wooyoung took the chance to look up and down at the older again, drinking in his figure all over again like seonghwa was an oasis and he couldn’t get enough. “i’ll give you a $50 tip right now if you let me see them.”

“that’s not even 15 percent-”

“100.”

“100 dollars, are you insane?”

“i’ll bring it up to $150 if you don’t let me see.”

“god, you’re annoying! okay, jesus, fine. no touching, got it? or else i’ll crush your fingers.” seonghwa’s face was glowing red, both from annoyance and embarrassment. 

his fingers fidgeted with the fabric of his skirt and the can-can underneath. painfully slow, he dragged the fabric upwards, revealing his skin and the lace garter hugging his legs in an unintentionally teasing manner. soon enough, the skirt was high enough to reveal the fabric gripping his loins. the waistband had lace detailing sewn to it, branching off into different paths and making symmetrical designs along seonghwa’s hips. as he was elsewhere, seonghwa was practically hairless here too, showing no sign of a happy trail on the skin of his stomach. wooyoung’s eyes dug holes, his gaze hot enough to cause seonghwa to curl his toes and look away. the only thing that caused him to stop looking was a knock on the door, and seonghwa swears he could see wooyoung get pissed at this. 

stepping close, close enough for seonghwa to pick up every detail on wooyoung’s body. he hadn’t noticed it at first, but wooyoung’s loose-fitting shirt was cut low and wide enough to reveal a company of hickeys smattering his neck and chest. was his guest the one that gave them to him? some were harsher than others, showing visible teeth marks. wooyoung let out a long breath before opening his mouth. 

“you’re so fucking hot, you don’t even  _ know _ how much it turns me on.” he says, before grabbing seonghwa’s hand and shoving it down to cover himself again. he walks past seonghwa and goes to open the door. a cold blasts seonghwa’s body, but the inside of his stomach felt like it was on fire. 

a familiar face came in through the door. choi san, a student he had seen on campus with that unforgettable chunk of white hair. he saw seonghwa, obviously recognised him, but said nothing. a wave of relief washed over him, but that burning in his stomach didn’t leave. he couldn’t even pick up what the two were talking about, his ears felt like he had water in them. 

the boys were apparently just having a hang out session. they put on a movie, seonghwa thinks it was the lord of the rings trilogy but he busied himself with the work he was assigned so he wouldn’t have to think about wooyoung. he could feel the younger’s gaze follow him around the place, and whenever he had to bend over he could hear the way wooyoung sucks in a breath. the second he finishes, he rushes to get out the door, but wooyoung stops him to give him his tip. seonghwa regrets making eye contact because he could see the way wooyoung looks at him and it makes his heart lurch in his chest. seonghwa doesn’t even say thank you before he speeds out the door. 

seonghwa hates the way he feels. he hates the way wooyoung looks at him. he hates the way he can feel the younger’s gaze on him. he hates the way he imagines what happened to wooyoung to get those hickeys on his neck. he hates the way he imagines how wooyoung sounded, how his hands would feel on him, the way wooyoung would fuck him. he hates the way he looks in the dirty mirror of his apartment, as he sits on his haunches, dress rucked up on his thighs and chest heaving and voice pitching as he cums into his fist. 

seonghwa hates the way wooyoung makes him feel. 


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> quick tw for the mention of the word v*mit but in the phrase 'word v*mit'

hongjoong spits out his drink.

“you’re a huh? you want to fuck _who?_ ”

seonghwa’s neck is sore from how often he’s been hanging it in shame. 

“i’ve been working part-time as a maid. my only customer so far has been jung wooyoung. he’s been flirting with me. and now i want to fuck him. do you want me to repeat it again because you won’t have the eardrums to be able to hear it,” seonghwa threatens, though his tone does not match the content. hongjoong knows the threat was empty but he concedes anyways.

“bro, that’s… a lot. well, first of all, do i get to see a picture of you in your uniform?” hongjoong is risking his life asking for this, but he’ll be damned if he can’t see a picture of his coworker in a fucking _maid outfit_ if he claims to work as one. 

seonghwa sends out a death glare, but reluctantly pulls out his phone. “keep the brightness low, and we’ll talk about what you’re about to see in a more _private_ area.”

hongjoong gets the message and holds the older’s phone low in front of his body. on it, from what he can discern, is seonghwa on the floor in front of a mirror. he’s sitting with his calves and thighs parallel, showing off the stockings and garter he’s wearing. his clothes are quite dishevelled, as one of the clasps had unclipped and his skirt was rucked up. the hand not holding the phone was coated in cum, and his cock was still untucked, tip faintly pink and wet. the angle of the picture purposefully cut off right below his nose, leaving his mouth hung open and tongue with a streak of cum in full view. 

joong’s knee jerks and hits the table, audibly rattling the cutlery. “fuck, dude. maybe warn me it was softcore porn and not just a sexy pic. i don’t need to be half chub while teaching kids about stem cells.” 

seonghwa huffs out a laugh and hongjoong smiles, knowing he helped seonghwa’s mood a little bit. “hey, i looked hot. i’m sure those co-eds wouldn’t mind seeing your stiffy in the middle of class.”

“hey! i have morals. i seduce the co-eds with my charm and wit, not my massive horse cock.”

“i’ve literally seen your dick and you still have the nerve to call it a ‘horse cock’ to my face.”

“i have big dick energy.”

“it’s 2020, hongjoong.”

\--- 

the rest of seonghwa’s day went by with relative ease. his professor didn’t give him any more work to print, his students had actual constructive conversations in class, and he had actual food for lunch. he managed to do some grading as well, so most of his classes were actually kinda fun. it was also his favourite lesson from when he was a student. but now it was wooyoung’s class, and he was panicking. he pretends to focus on his work at his desk, but he still manages to notice the blue-silver hair walk in from the corner of his eye. 

around 40 minutes into the class, while seonghwa was playing solitaire on his phone, his professor walked up to him. with a quickness, seonghwa slipped his phone off the desk and underneath his thigh. 

“can you go to the back and make sure the students are doing their work?” he asks, though his voice is as monotone as ever. 

seonghwa’s brows furrowed. “why? you didn’t ask me to go check during the other classes.”

“those were freshman. they’ll learn their lesson when they fail this class. i don’t want these juniors back here whining about their grades,” he complains and then motions his arm to send seonghwa to the back of the room. 

seonghwa’s heart drops, but he gets up anyway. he knew this day was going too well. he takes a detour and starts walking from the opposite end of the aisle, taking his sweet time checking and asking the students if they need any help. he even lets an insufferable female student flirt with him, far too handsy for her own good. eventually, though it hurts seonghwa, he reaches wooyoung. he scans wooyoung’s computer screen and sees an empty word document. 

“is there a reason why you haven’t done any work?” seonghwa asks. he would have said nothing at all but he doesn’t want the professor up his ass when wooyoung eventually gets a failing grade on this assignment. 

wooyoung turns his head and bats his eyelashes, greeting seonghwa with the cheesiest seductive expression he’s ever seen. 

“well, sir, i’ve been having difficulty understanding this assignment. i think i’ll need some assistance. maybe even some home tutoring.” wooyoung’s tone drips with seduction and horniness, whether this was all for shits and giggles or if he’s actually trying to flirt with seonghwa, he doesn’t know. what he _does_ know, is that wooyoung’s tracing of his arm is mirroring exactly what the girl from the other aisle was doing. 

“did you enjoy flirting with her?” wooyoung asks, not making eye contact. 

“what does it matter to you?” seonghwa replies. 

“you know you’re doing this assignment for me, right?” 

“don’t say it too loud, i don’t want the professor hearing this.”

wooyoung’s quiet for a while. “did the night at my place turn you on?”

seonghwa’s breath catches in his throat. he looks around, and all the nearby students are either not paying attention or have airpods in. 

“wooyoung, shut the fuck up,” seonghwa’s eyes are shaking. 

“did you enjoy my eyes on you? did you enjoy how much you turned me on?"

hwa’s heart is drumming a mile a minute, and he can feel his stomach curl in on itself. wooyoung really had the fucking balls to tease him like this, and in the middle of class too. 

“woo, don’t start this now. we’re in the middle of class.”

“okay. give me your number, then. i might need to text you in the middle of work in case i get stuck on something.” wooyoung angles his phone to seonghwa before handing it to the elder. 

it was open on a new contact page, accompanied by a picture of seonghwa taken from the unflattering angle wooyoung was sitting at. seonghwa huffed and typed his phone number. he took a new picture of himself and gave the phone back and headed back to his desk. as he sat down, his phone buzzed in his pocket. 

_i hope you played with yourself when_ _  
_ _you got home._ _  
_ _i don’t want you to hold yourself back_ _  
_ _just because i’m your student._

_read, 1:33pm_

seonghwa’s heart lurched. the churning in his stomach turned hot, he felt like he had swallowed the sun. 

_jung wooyoung, i swear to god._ _  
_ _focus on your work so you won’t_ _  
_ _be indebted to me for the rest of_ _  
_ _your college life._

_read, 1:35pm_

_i’d get on my hands and knees_ _  
_ _to serve you if it meant i’d get to_ _  
_ _see you in that dress again. i_ _  
_ _wanted to slip my hand underneath_ _  
_ _your panties and palm you until_ _  
_ _you were shaking through your_ _  
_ _orgasm._

_read, 1:36pm_

seonghwa looked up at wooyoung, shooting daggers at him with his eyes. wooyoung responded with a coy smile and returned his gaze to his laptop. 

_can you at least wait until_ _  
_ _after class ends to sext me?_

_read, 1:38pm_

_anything for you, babe ;)  
_ _  
_ _read, 1:38pm_

\---

seonghwa sighed as he drove home. he didn't have the energy to do anything besides shower and sleep. he was lucky his day went so easily, aside from the grinning roadblock that was blowing his phone up. why did he have to take everything literally? he parks his car in the apartment building's lot and pulls his phone out. _Fifteen messages._

_hyung, i'm so needy._

_sent, 2:00pm_

_hyung, please text me back,  
_ _i need you to command me.  
  
_ _sent, 2:05pm_

 _oh shit wait, i'd be the  
_ _master in this situation  
  
_ _sent, 20:08pm_

 _hyung, do you have any  
_ _pictures of you in that pretty  
_ _maid dress? i want to see  
_ _your soft thighs again.  
  
_ _sent, 20:15pm_

seonghwa didn't even bother reading the rest, but he did notice that the last one was a voice message. a bad feeling washed over him, but he tapped on it anyways. 

_"hyung, why aren't you reading my messages? are you embarrassed your student is turning you on? that all you want to do is drop to your knees and stuff your mouth? or would you prefer to be stuffed from behind and have me fuck you until you can't speak? get back to me, will you? i might just leave my place even more of a mess this time if you don't."_

that bad feeling came rushing back to him, but instead of an ominous chill, he was swallowed by a painful warmth. seonghwa grabbed his bag and walked to his apartment with an almost robotic stillness. as soon as he opened his door, his legs gave out. wooyoung's voice echoed in his brain. the smirk audible in his tone, the background noise that seonghwa can pick up the more he listens that just goes to show how shameless he really is, and just how similar his tone is to the last time he was at wooyoung's place. seonghwa's skin was burning as the memories of how he felt back then came rippling back. 

knowing he was going to regret this, seonghwa opened his phone gallery. tapping the same picture he showed hongjoong earlier. he squeezed his eyes shut as he pressed the send button before locking his phone and leaving it on the counter to ignore for the rest of the night. after his scalding hot shower, seonghwa dressed, but not in his sleeping clothes. he dug through his laundry basket and pulled out his fishnets, garter, panties, and one of the lace chokers he threw in there to use sometime in the future. the future is now, he guesses. placing himself in the exact same position he was the last time he was in front of this mirror, a terrible intrusive thought penetrated his brain. 

phone now in his hand, seonghwa presses the record button and slides his other hand down his body. slowly, from his sternum down to his stomach, and then finally pressing on the bulge in his underwear that’s far too eager for his own good. a small groan stumbles out of his throat, completely unintentional but welcome in this scenario. his thighs trembled and his toes curled as he continued to palm himself to full hardness until the head of his cock began to peek out from behind the black lace trimming. precum now beginning to drip from his cock, seonghwa pulls the waistband of his panties down, eventually dragging the entire garment down to his mid-thigh. 

a slick sound began to echo throughout the room as more and more precum leaks out and seonghwa’s voice began to shake, more of his grunts and moans escaping out of his mouth as he approaches his limit. he moves his gaze to the mirror instead of himself and a broken moan bursts out of his throat at his state. legs bent at the knees with his thighs stuck together, his chest, cheeks, and cock all red from his blood coursing through his body, and a thin sheen of sweat beginning to coat his skin. he looked ruin, debauched, all just from what he was wearing and a single fucking voice message from his _student_ of all people. 

the familiar coil of warmth in his stomach starts to approach and his breath starts to hasten. his orgasm approaches way too quickly as wooyoung begins to pollute his mind. wooyoung whispering in his ear. wooyoung mentioning how turned on he made him. wooyoung mentioning it _in class_ , for anyone to hear. wooyoung being needy for him. wooyoung making seonghwa needy for him. his brain is stuck in a loop of wooyoung, wooyoung, _wooyoung, wooyoung,_ **_wooyoung, wooyoung_ **—

“woo—!”

seonghwa’s words get cut off as the coil in his stomach snaps and he cums, _hard_ , coating the floor in front of him and his fist with his jizz. his heartbeat echoes in his ears and post-orgasm clarity hits him. he stops the recording, lasting all of five minutes when it felt like fifty to him. with newfound shame, seonghwa slowly gets up with the elegance of a baby deer and goes back to the bathroom to disrobe and freshen up. hands now clean, seonghwa takes the time to skim through the video. he managed to keep a constant angle through most of it, his face not showing up for most of his, and he had to admit that he was pretty hot. he closes his camera roll and notices a small number one on his messages. he opens it and sees its from wooyoung. his stomach curls as he opens their chat. 

_it’s amazing how little i_  
_have to do to get you_ _  
_ looking like that.

_read, 2:35pm_

\--- 

san chokes on his pork bun.

“seonghwa did what? you’re doing _what?_ ” 

wooyoung rolls his eyes in defeat. “we’re sexting. right before you showed up last saturday i paid him to flash me because i found out he was wearing panties. it turned me on _way_ too much and i convinced him to give me his number in class. i sent him some flirty messages and i guess it affected him so he sent me back a nude."

san stares at wooyoung for a few seconds, trying to compute all the information he was just given. his soul came back to his body and he only had one response. 

"lemme see the texts."

wooyoung hands his phone over to san with little resistance. san's reaction to the texts are minimal, stuff he'd expect of his horny rabbit of a friend. he scrolls to the bottom, right before the picture because he has morals to not look at nudes not sent to him, and plays the single audio message. 

"wow… i wouldn't have figured that seonghwa hyung was a sub. did you guys already fuck or something, how did you know what to say to him?" san hands the phone back to wooyoung and thinks about the man he thought he knew. 

"nah, i just guessed and got it right. it's also pretty obvious that he likes taking commands. even if he doesn't want to do something, he'll do it because he cares about people. the only reason he flashed me was because i was gonna drop a ton of money on him. he took the job because he's piss broke, but he feels bad taking advantage of people. also, he didn't have to wear those panties, his job wouldn't even know, but he still did." 

"wooyoung, you know none of those things indicates if someone's a sub. i'm a sub but i'd fish money out of your wallet like it's a sport," san replies. 

"yeah, that's because you know me. also, i didn't know you like wearing lingerie?" wooyoung smirks as he speaks. 

san sputters. "i– i didn't say that."

"you didn't deny it either. we'll have to experiment with that. oh yeah, speaking of experimenting, i have a plan regarding seonghwa." wooyoung perks up, sitting up straight with a faux attentive posture. 

"dude, i'm not fucking seonghwa. he's hot, and he probably looks gorgeous in that nude, but i'm not interested." 

"his face isn't even in it, it could be someone else." 

"lemme see it?" san asks hesitantly. 

wooyoung pulls the picture up and turns his phone towards san. san's pupils blow wide. 

" _fuck_ , i hope this is him because i might consider fucking him now." san takes a moment to readjust his pants.

"and you call me a slut," wooyoung bites back. 

"shut up, slut. now, what's this plan?" 

\---

seonghwa’s heart was swarming in his chest as he got dressed. another saturday had come. another horny, heart-aching, dick-torturing saturday, which meant he’d have to see wooyoung again. he considers quitting four separate times as he gets dressed, thinking about just picking up minimum wage jobs and even deliberating that coke-swallowing thing that one student told him about. but eventually, it was time to head over to his student’s house. the student he’s been sexting. the student that is actively trying to fuck him. what did i do to deserve this, seonghwa thinks to himself.

he’s already been paid $700, and today will add up to $1200, so seonghwa only needs to come back three more times to pay off his debt. he could bear to see wooyoung like this three more times, right? he takes a deep breath, cracks his knuckles, and summons the will of every religious deity he could think of to give him power. he ignores the gazes of the delivery workers staring at him as he crawls out of his hunk of garbage that he drives and walks straight to wooyoung’s door. with three knocks, he waits outside and tries to prevent his steel mentality from cracking. 

“it’s open,” he hears wooyoung say, though he didn’t sound like he was far from the door. reluctantly, seonghwa opens the door himself and walks in. 

“why’d you just leave the door unlocked? i know you don’t live in a shitty area like i do but that’s still unsa—” 

seonghwa’s cut off by the sight that greets him, jarring enough to cause him to drop his supplies basket. there, right in front of him, was choi san. on his knees with wooyoung’s cock in his mouth. san had turned his head to face the door, but kept himself on wooyoung, as if he was commanded to stay there. his skin was red and his lips were swollen and glossy, indicating he’s probably been doing this for a while. his eyes were also wet, though he didn’t seem to be upset. he actually seemed rather excited to do this, because his pace increases as his eyes lock with seonghwa’s. 

wooyoung looks absolutely fucking pleased with himself. it’s obvious this was his idea, and he doesn’t look away from seonghwa for a second. even when he moves his hand to fist a chunk of san’s hair, causing the other to let out a pained, though still enjoyed, moan, he keeps eye contact with seonghwa the entire time. he lets out a moan and seonghwa’s unsure if it's genuine or not, but it still makes his stomach burn. 

"what? get to work. do you not want to get paid?" wooyoung quips, using his free arm to motion towards the mess that's consumed his apartment. wooyoung’s skin was a tinge pinker than usual and sweat was beginning to form at his brow, but he was still as cocky as he always was. seonghwa hated his confidence and picked up his bucket with a huff in frustration. 

he began shovelling garbage into a trash bag, focusing extra hard on trying to block out the wet sounds coming from san’s mouth. next, he wipes down the counters and tables, pretending he doesn’t walk by san while his mouth is being fucked. then, he sweeps the floor, ignoring the moans san lets out as wooyoung forces his head up and down his shaft by the other’s hair. god, how long does it take this kid to cum? seonghwa’s been working for the better part of an hour, but wooyoung’s barely changed since the moment he walked in. even the sweat on his fucking brow is still in the same place. 

seonghwa walks up to wooyoung and san, forcing his eyes to stay looking above the belt. “i’m gonna have to do the couch eventually. when do you think you’ll be finished?” 

wooyoung makes eye contact with san and lifts his brow. san gets the message and pulls off of wooyoung's dick, a thick trail of spit and precum following his mouth. as seonghwa followed the line of saliva, something shiny caught his eye. a curved barbell. _holy fucking shit_ , wooyoung has a dick piercing. a feathery groan escapes from somewhere deep in seonghwa and his knees go weak.

"uh, it should be another ten minutes, but we can make it five. with some help." the corners of san's mouth curls up, and seonghwa takes in just how attractive san is. 

his hair is a mess but the colours match with his outfit, a black cardigan and white button-up with ripped black jeans. his eyepatch, from some operation according to other students, is decorated with little doodles, making his persona even more adorable. he always thought san was a textbook cutie-pie, but seeing him give a blowjob unabashed in front of someone closer to a stranger gives him an entirely new image. a goody-two-shoes to strangers, but a naughty little boy to the people that get to know him. suddenly the hickeys from last time make sense. 

"with… with help?" seonghwa's voice comes out barely louder than a whisper. 

"yeah hyung. do you want to help?" san asks, tone soft and innocent, as if asking seonghwa to help with a colouring book rather than help suck off his student along with another one of his students. 

seonghwa bites his lip, trying to make sense of the static in his brain. seonghwa's already been sexting him, that's enough to get him fired. what else did he have to lose? wooyoung wanted it, san was fine with it, and hwa was most _certainly_ fine with it. shit, he was really doing this, huh? and in a fucking maid outfit too. boy will hongjoong have a field day with this. 

"o– only if you pay me, okay? this is just a part of my job," seonghwa huffs, getting down on his knees in front of wooyoung's crotch and kneeling besides san. 

"i don't think you were on the job when you sent me that picture of you with your dick out and dripping with cum," wooyoung replies back, a sly grin on his face. 

"how about you shut the fuck up before i pull that barbell out with my teeth?" seonghwa spits back. 

"make me, then." 

make me. _make me._ oh, seonghwa will make him shut up, alright. he scoots forward slightly on his knees and slowly wraps his fingers around the base of the younger's cock, testing the water slightly before jumping in. he flattens his tongue against the tip, feeling the hard metal press against it, before wrapping his lips around the rest of it. he hears wooyoung hiss but makes no moves to look up and see his expression, focusing on swallowing down the rest of the length instead. 

he hears another moan this time, but it didn’t come from above him. instead, it came from the boy sitting beside him. 

“woo-ie~ what am i supposed to do now?” he whined, fidgeting while sitting on his haunches, clearly still horny. 

“who said you had to stop, sannie?” is all wooyoung replied back with. 

san stared at him for a second before understanding what the younger was talking about. he slid closer to the couch and wrapped his hand around seonghwa’s which was still holding on to the base of wooyoung’s cock. seonghwa glanced over at san and watched as he licked up the side of woo’s shaft. seonghwa mirrored the movement, licking up the sides that san couldn’t reach from his position. as they got higher, they both eventually reached the tip. their tongues grazed as they lapped at the narrow flesh, eventually touching more and more until they were kissing with the appendage between their lips. 

wooyoung’s head was thrown back, completely resting on the back of the couch as he knew he would cum the moment he looked down at the scene. his imagination alone was pushing him further and further as the two continued to lick his cock and each other’s mouths. suddenly, he hears san let out a whine and picks his head back up to see what had happened. seonghwa’s free hand had a grasp in san’s hair, shoving his face further onto wooyoung and into the older’s mouth. the scene of seonghwa dominating his best friend sent fireworks through wooyoung’s brain as he came, hips bucking but the other two held him down and lapped up the cum that was dripping out of him. 

as wooyoung slowly turned flaccid, the two moved away from his cock but continued to feverishly lick into each other’s mouth. wooyoung could see his cum on their tongues and how each one wanted to taste all of it for himself. seonghwa pushed his weight onto san and moved his hand down to palm at the student’s cock. san whined, high pitched as all his noises were. no time was wasted for seonghwa to undo his pants and free san’s cock, as san did the same to seonghwa, slipping a hand underneath his dress to pull at the waistband of his panties. the two rutted against each other, mouths barely even touching as they swapped spit and cum and moans, both wet enough for there to be almost no friction. san came first, digging his nails into seonghwa’s scalp and pushing his face down to kiss the elder correctly for the first time that afternoon. seonghwa used the cum as lubricant to jerk himself off, pulling away to sit up and pulling san to open his mouth. he shot his load into san’s mouth, the younger obediently lapping up every drop. seonghwa met him in one last kiss, swallowing his own load back into his body. 

san pulled away for air, slicking his hair back as he panted, trying to get something that wasn’t spit or jizz into his body. seonghwa did the same, pulling at the clothes on his chest to try and beat some cool air onto his face. they both turned to face wooyoung, who had been watching the entire time. the cloud of lust had left the three of them, but it left wooyoung first. 

“well, that was quite rude of you two to not invite me to your little snowballing session.”

seonghwa laughed. “who said we wanted you there?” 

san giggled and walked to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water for each of them. seonghwa drank the water like it was liquid ambrosia, needing something that wasn’t human-based in his throat. the three of them were actually quiet for a while, each cleaning themselves up in the bathroom. seonghwa was unfortunately stuck with his cum, spit, and sweat-soaked maid dress until he had finished cleaning, but wooyoung leant him a shirt and some joggers to drive home in.

\---

“bye, seonghwa hyung. that was fun, i might want to start hiring you to come around and clean my dorm room in incognito. mingi’s depressive state has left his side of the room in perpetual disaster,” san jokes before leaning in and giving seonghwa one last peck on the lips. he had chapstick on now, strawberry flavour. 

“oh no, i’m quitting in like, two weeks. i’ll have enough money to pay off all my debts,” seonghwa explained, packing up his basket of cleaning supplies as he got ready to leave. 

wooyoung whipped around from where he was in the kitchen. “two weeks?!”

seonghwa, shocked, replied with a quiet “yeah.”

“ah, sorry… i was just… surprised, is all. i guess i’ll be hiring another maid to come around here on saturdays, heh.” he tried to hide it, but even though he was smiling, san could tell wooyoung was upset. he did honestly like seonghwa, but he couldn’t keep up this relationship. 

“yeah. it’s a shame, you’ll never get such good deals out of these girls… well, i have to start heading out. bye, you two.” seonghwa could tell the air in the room had fallen a few degrees, now slightly heavier in all their lungs.

“mm, yeah. bye, seonghwa,” wooyoung said, quietly. he watched as seonghwa walked out his front door before letting out a deep sigh. 

san frowned. “you really like him?”

a sad smile drew itself upon wooyoung’s face. 

“yeah. i really do. more than i should for what we’ve been doing. he’s just… so sweet. you weren’t here for some of our conversations, but he cares far too much about people for his own good. part of the reason he became a teacher’s assistant was that his best friend wouldn’t be alone. he drives a cheap car and lives in a shitty apartment building because he didn’t want his parents to pay for anything more than they needed to. his fucking apartment doesn’t even have a functioning lock, san. when he’s done cleaning each room he smiles. he leaves my fucking stuffed animals tucked under the sheets. he listens to my favourite artists while he cleans because he wants to be considerate of my tastes. he cares so much, more than my parents do. he cares almost as much as you do.” 

san listens to every word wooyoung says, a stern but attentive look on his face. he rubs wooyoung’s back as he vents, letting his word vomit flow. 

“woo, you can always tell him, you know? you obviously can’t date openly, but i honestly think he isn’t just here for your money or your dick. he isn’t getting paid to listen to you talk or tuck your dolls in. you have two weeks to decide if you want to tell him because he can’t interact with you on campus like he can here. now, i’m gonna make us some ramen, so you go find us a movie to watch, okay? you can’t be a sad little loser in your feelings when i’m with you.” san caresses small of wooyoung's back and presses a quick, strawberry flavoured kiss to his lips before leaving to rummage through the cupboards. 

a smile tugs at the corner of wooyoung’s lips. 

“okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sooooooooooo!!!! sorry this took so long. i just dont have the proper place to be writing smut like and im drained every day when i get home. i will be cutting off deadlines just to make this easier for me since im constantly busy. if it comes early you guys are lucky. i promise ill work harder to get these out because i enjoy writing this fic a lot. thank you all for being patient, ily 💖


	8. chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a quick tw for homophobic slurs, specifically the f slur. also for marijuana. also consent while high is NOT consent. and also, sex is not a healthy coping mechanism please just talk to someone.

“why the fuck are you guys here?” 

“jung wooyoung, why is it so bad that your parents want to check up on you?” 

the grunt woo lets out startles his mother and father. the boy in front of them is their son, but they could barely recognise him. 

“you guys don’t give a shit about me. it’s my _junior year_. i graduate in a year, and this is the first time you’re coming to check on me. what, was i spending too much money? are you marrying me off for business? what the fuck do you want?” wooyoung’s voice was raspy; he had just gotten up maybe a half-hour ago with the sound of fervent knocking on his door and six missed calls. 

“we’ve been busy, you _know_ that. you grew up in our house. stop acting like we abandoned you. we’ve been filling your wallet with enough money to get you by if all the recent spending wasn’t enough to clue you in.” his mother, much to wooyoung’s distaste, is a lot like him. gritty, high pitched voice. loud enough for the neighbours to hear. he even got his looks from her side of the family. he hates how much he looks like her. 

wooyoung scoffs. “oh, now you care how much money i spend? you guys don’t give a shit about what i do until i’m doing something you guys don’t like. i could be in the hospital and you’d only come running if the bill was too high. you guys have _never_ let me do anything i like. i’m majoring in business for you guys. san is the only reason i’ve bothered staying in school.” 

“what?” mrs jung gasps, “you’re still talking to that fag? i thought we told you just how much we don’t want you associating yourself with him.” her words burn wooyoung’s ears, heating up enough for it to spread onto his cheekbones and into his scalp. 

“yeah, and i told you just how much i don’t want to hear you guys talking about him like that. there’s nothing wrong with san. you two are worse people than him.”

\---

homecoming. wooyoung was pinned to the mattress under san, hands moving from hair to neck to waist as they locked lips. their pants weren't completely off, just lowered enough so that they were able to grind their shafts together. neither of them had a clue on how guys actually did it, and neither were really prepared to have a dick up his ass either, even if they _were_ both a bit tipsy from the spiked punch bowl. 

san's eyes were blown wide and the satiny red eyeshadow made wooyoung's head spin. the squeaky noises that came out of the older were almost fake if wooyoung had never heard the way san laughs or groans in pain, cartoonish in nature. this is the one time woo never wished he had heard the way san sounds because when his mom twists the doorknob open without knocking, san lets out the sharpest gasp his lungs could take in. san takes it upon himself to flip off of wooyoung's hips and yank the blanket at the foot of the bed up so they could give themselves some decency as they tuck themselves away. 

\---

wooyoung doesn't even remember what his mother said that night, his head was swimming in fear and embarrassment. but san… every time the topic gets brought up, san’s head sinks and he contracts from the conversation. the things wooyoung’s mother said to san could never be erased from his mind. san’s cried over it many times; he’s had to rebuild his self-esteem from six feet under. wooyoung carries the guilt his mother should be feeling, along with all the shame and humility she’s never felt. 

“you have no place to be blaming us for anything. it’s that sodomite that’s corrupted your brain. we cut the choi family off for _your_ safety. you should be thankful, you spoiled brat.” his mother was fuming, steam practically rolling out of her ears. as usual, his father stood there in silence. he’s never opposed her, wrapped in the thorns of his wife, the rosebush. he knew his father sided with him, he's told wooyoung multiple times after the multiple scoldings and sometimes beating he's received over the years after refusing to part ways with san. 

"you're the reason that the choi family's business failed, why they had to declare bankruptcy. san's had to work multiple jobs since freshman year in order to help pay for college. you ruined their lives for something that wasn't even san's fault. you've done nothing to help me " wooyoung spit his words like they were poison. 

his mother scoffed. "wasn't his fault? you're saying that as if i didn't see you pinned underneath him on your bed. he was probably going to rape you if i didn't .” 

wooyoung fell silent with disgust. he saw his father wince at what his wife said. a rosebush with two rabbits caged inside, lest they are stabbed with thorns. 

“...i was the one that started it.”

“what?”

“i was the one that started it,” wooyoung repeated himself, not daring to look up. 

“wooyoung.”

“i started it. _i_ kissed san. _i started it_ . you ruined his life because you refuse to acknowledge that your son isn’t everything you wanted. you call san a dirty sodomite, a rapist, _a fag_ , but what does that make your son?” wooyoung was near tears at this point, but he couldn’t handle it anymore. 

the sound of skin meeting skin resonated around the room, but wooyoung felt nothing but the wet stream of tears running parallel down his face. his mother’s face was red with fury, eyebrows furrowed and exposing the forehead lines she paid so much money to remove. little did she know that money couldn’t fix the ugliness inside of her. 

“you’re out of this family,” she said, voice quiet and shivering. 

“yeah, that’ll look great on the news. ‘eclectic jung family kicks out fag son in the year 2020’. it’d do you good to just never talk to me again. it’d do both of us good.” 

the conversation ends there. wooyoung’s mom walks out first but his father stays back for a second. 

“woo, i’m sorry. don’t worry about any money, i’ll give you anything you need. focus on yourself. i’ll deal with her.”

wooyoung looks up but says nothing. his father looks too old for his age, covered with wrinkles and age spots. woo tries not to cry again. his father closes the door and wooyoung locks it. 

he doesn’t want to, but he cries. he cries the hardest he’s ever, sobs ripping out of his throat like he was trying to tear out his vocal cords. he curls in on himself and wraps his arms around his chest and digs his nails into his biceps until he can feel skin embed under his nails. his face is wet with sweat, tears, and snot, soaking his sheets and his pillows, but he can’t bring himself to care about anything else other than how much of a disappointment he was. 

somewhere around him, his phone vibrated. he wouldn’t have bothered checking it, but something inside him told him to look. 

_hey, did you not schedule an_ _  
_ _appointment today?_

_read, 1:27pm_

seonghwa. seonghwa, who cares for him. seonghwa, who puts up with his bullshit. seonghwa, who isn’t disgusted by him. seonghwa, who needs him to survive. he can barely see his screen, blurred with tears and the darkness of his room, but he types out a reply. 

_come_

_sent, 1:27pm_

_please_

_sent, 1:28pm_

his key was still in the mailbox. seonghwa knows that. wooyoung doesn’t even have to wait five minutes before he hears the lock on his door start jostling. he doesn’t bother moving, even when he can hear seonghwa’s frantic pacing around the flat, not even bothering to take off his shoes. wooyoung hears his bedroom door open, seonghwa heaving to catch his breath, but still doesn’t move. he wants to, so so badly, but his body is so heavy. seonghwa rounds the bed and squats to be eye level with wooyoung’s face. wooyoung’s swollen, tear-stained face. seonghwa’s expression softens, hardens, softens, searching for the right reaction to wear. 

“woo…” is all seonghwa gets out before wooyoung starts to sob again. he begins to curl back into himself but seonghwa’s hands stop him, pulling the younger’s body to sit up. wooyoung clings to seonghwa’s shoulders and bawls, breathing erratically and tears barely even falling because he’s run dry. 

“wooyoung, what happened? you have to talk or i can’t help you.” seonghwa keeps his tone soft, rubbing one of his hands up and down wooyoung’s back and the other petting his head. 

seonghwa waits patiently for wooyoung to finish. his breathing evens out and his body stops shaking. the younger wipes away his tears and snot and drool, though most of it just smears and seonghwa has to use his sleeve to properly clean him. wooyoung looks up at someone for the first time that day. his skin was splattered with red going all the way down to his chest and his face was swollen. he looked terrible, to be completely honest, but seonghwa didn’t care. he pressed a soft kiss to wooyoung’s forehead because that’s what he needed at the moment: love. 

wooyoung responded with another kiss, this time to the older’s lips. he didn’t even wait for seonghwa to react, he just pushed and pushed, pouring out the words he couldn’t say because his throat was knotted. seonghwa took it all in even if he was confused. he was there to make wooyoung feel better, not lecture him on proper coping mechanisms. 

seonghwa’s face suddenly feels wet. upon further inspection, they were tears. wooyoung was crying. wooyoung was crying, but didn’t stop to wipe his face. he was completely ignoring the sorrow wracking his body and focusing on expressing what his body needed. much to wooyoung’s dismay, seonghwa pulled away. 

“woo, i’m here. i’ll stay, i’ll do whatever you want. just promise me you know what you’re doing.” seonghwa wiped away the tears, but makes sure to hold woo’s face towards his own and stares him dead in the eyes. 

“seonghwa… hyung… i want you. more than ever, i need you. please, touch me. i want to feel you.” wooyoung looks sad, but his eyes and body language contradicts him. seonghwa’s fine, more than fine with having sex with wooyoung, he just wished it didn’t start like this. 

“of course. anything for you. i just wanted to make sure you were okay. i don’t ever want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“hyung. i love you too much to regret doing this.” 

wooyoung dropped the bomb. _love_ . he _loves_ seonghwa. seonghwa can’t hide the shock blooming on his face, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised. wooyoung doesn’t seem to think about it, instead choosing to surge forward and lock his lips with the older, wringing his hands in his shirt, and dragging them both down on the bed. seonghwa wastes no time sifting his fingers through wooyoung’s hair, pushing them in as he does with his tongue. 

wooyoung lets out a quiet moan, muffled from seonghwa’s long tongue plugging it. he’s completely different compared to the last time they had sex. before, he was cocky and domineering, speaking to seonghwa like they were about to fight it out in the ring. now he was almost like just-blown glass: if he was even a bit too rough, he would fall apart.   
  
seonghwa peels the younger’s tear, spit, sweat, and snot soaked sweater off and wooyoung shivers. his skin is burning but the room was fairly cold, enough for seonghwa to feel it through his cardigan and dress shirt, which he both promptly strips off. wooyoung rakes his gaze down hwa’s body, taking in the lean and healthy figure of his hyung. his eyes are still glossy and wet, but he isn’t sobbing anymore, so that’s progress in hwa’s book. 

“how… how do you want me, woo?” seonghwa asks, his voice similar to the tone he uses when in class, telling the female students he knows only joined this class knowing that he’s the teacher’s assistant. 

it seems like wooyoung takes a few seconds to register what he said, because he just nods dumbly before answering. “oh… i want you to ride me, hyung.

seonghwa’s already above wooyoung, his arms and legs essentially caging the younger to the bed. he nods, “of course, woo. do you want to prep me or are you too tired?”

“i want to watch you do it. you probably look pretty fingering yourself.”

he can’t help but blush. for someone that was an absolute emotional trainwreck, wooyoung has warmed up to the sex side of his personality fairly easily. seonghwa can’t help but think that that probably indicates something about how wooyoung uses sex, but for right now, it seems like that this is helping ground him a bit. with a nod and a quiet ‘of course,’ seonghwa kicks off his shoes that he forgot to take off before he got on the bed, along with his khakis and underwear. this is the first time wooyoung’s seen him naked and he takes in the view with pleasure. he can feel himself start to harden and lets out another moan. his skin hurts and his brain feels like nothing but soup and bad thoughts, but every place seonghwa touches heals him. 

\---

wooyoung has lacked love his entire life. his parents barely treated him like their son other than at executive parties where they shoved him into every family that had a daughter his age. it was at one of these parties that he met san. as a child, he had long hair, down to his shoulders, and the back of his coat resembled a dress. of course his parents had to introduce their prodigal (a lie) son into this family’s personal space. ‘why hello, potential business partners, this is our gifted perfect handsome product of our DNA, he would like to meet your offspring in hopes one day they will have a loveless marriage similar to ours and our companies can merge into a powerhouse which we will eventually dominate and spit you out like used gum.’

their parents sent them off to frolic and do child things like crawl under tables and terrorize waiters. as soon as they ran off, wooyoung noticed that san wasn’t wearing a dress, but pants and a dress shirt, just like him. somehow, in a way that he wouldn’t understand until he was older, this made wooyoung happier than if san were a girl. their parents made a deal and merged companies, but all this meant to san and wooyoung is that they’ll be spending more time together. if they weren’t at the choi residence, they were at the jung’s. if they weren’t at wooyoung’s parents’ accounting firm, they were at the choi’s banking company. if they weren’t at san’s violin lessons, they were at wooyoung’s piano lessons. eventually, they started sneaking into each other’s schools during lunch, which forced their parents to put them in the same school once they started high school. 

wooyoung didn’t meet the others until uni, but they felt right at home with him. though he had been drinking for years, he had never smoked weed until he met yeosang. he met him in freshman year, skating around the quad with what looked like a pen in his mouth. it turns out, wooyoung was right, it just wasn’t the type of pen he thought it was. once he saw smoke billowing out of yeosang’s mouth as he swivelled between a bench and a tree, he let out an all-too-loud “what the fuck?”

yeosang stopped dead in his tracks and glanced up, watching wooyoung, who was of course accompanied by san, staring at him as if he had six heads; he certainly felt like he did. 

“uh… are you okay?” yeo asks, softly rolling over to where the two of them were standing in the middle of the path, just off to the side of the benches. 

“no, yeah, yeah no i’m— just a, uh, quick question. why is there smoke pouring out of your face?” wooyoung asks, doe-eyed as he enters this new territory of life. 

yeosang, though he tries to hold back, sputters out a laugh. “are you for real?”

“uh… yeah.”

“dude, it’s a wax pen. you know, for smoking?” yeo takes another hit, the pen making a little hissing sound as he inhales. wooyoung watches as he does something with his mouth before exhaling a dense cloud of smoke and watching it rise into his nose like a reverse waterfall. after he inhales all of the smoke, he lets out a normal breath and wooyoung watches the smoke waft away in strands. he’s dumbfounded. 

“okay, i didn’t know you could do witchcraft with e-cigs, but that’s cool,” wooyoung says slowly, still trying to process what he had just watched. 

“dude, no, what the fuck. you seriously don’t know what wax pens are? they’re for weed. have you been living under a rock or some shit?”

woo looks over to san, who’s wearing a face as if he had swallowed a lemon whole. 

“what, am i the only one here that’s never seen a vape wax whatever the fuck he’s sucking weed from?” his voice is higher now, obviously from embarrassment. 

“our high school was full of bootlickers and goodie-two-shoes. my junior high, though? wasn’t really the best. don’t worry about it, love, it’s never too late to learn. pen highs are so much better than smoking.” san tries to sound sympathetic, he even gives woo a pat on the shoulder.

“wait, what?” woo asks, eyes bulging as he turns to san, “you’ve smoked weed before? when?” 

“it was just a few times during junior high. and maybe a few times during high school but i just didn’t want you to get in trouble with your parents. i know how upset they were when you went home drunk that one time. but! we’re in college now, away from our overbearing parents and free to do whatever we want. i’m sure this kind gentleman would be down to share, wouldn’t he? i mean, being high with others is always better than being high alone.”

yeo, having nothing better to do, reluctantly agreed. that’s how they all ended up piled on yeosang’s bed in his dorm room, practically hotboxing the place. san, to the continual surprise of wooyoung, is probably comparable to yeosang in terms of smoking tricks, blowing perfect o’s and playing with the smoke like they had magic in their fingertips. wooyoung felt left out, which san noticed, so he offered to teach him a trick. 

“hey woo, love, wanna try this one trick with me?” san asks, plucking one of the pens from yeosang’s hand because it was the only one he could bother finding. yeosang has a lot of different pens. woo nods dumbly, his senses stuffed with hay. he isn’t absolutely sure what san asked, but if it’s san asking, he’d do it in a heartbeat. once woo consented, though it isn’t really valid because they’re all as high as kites at the moment, he takes the younger’s face in his hands. 

“just inhale, okay?”

and so wooyoung does just that. once the smoke comes billowing out of san’s mouth, he inhales. it’s much softer than the drags he took directly from whatever pen he’s been using, and combined with the heat of san’s breath, it’s comfortingly warm. but somewhere in his muddled brain, the wires get crossed, and he begins to lean in. san must also be too faded to stop himself because in seconds they’re grinding against each other. woo’s sense of touch has magnified so everywhere san puts his hands pushes a moan out of his muffled lips. yeosang doesn’t say a word, simply leaning in and licking the curve of san’s ear. the latter moans, which in turns causes woo to moan. yeo doesn’t do much more than suck little marks into san’s neck and shuck his pants and underwear down to mid-thigh to get himself off, reading that woo was probably good enough with just san. wooyoung cums first, grinding against san’s thigh and soaking the front of his jeans. san had enough sense to take himself out of his pants, cumming on woo’s exposed stomach. yeosang had the immaculate timing to cum just as his roommate had opened the door, tissue already prepared. 

“hnn? oh, hey yunho. these two are wooyoung and san, they’re fellow freshies. you mind throwing this in the trash for me?” yeosang welcomes yunho a bit too nonchalantly, but yunho does as he’s told and tosses the cum napkin in the trash. that should be a decent indicator of their dynamic. 

the fact that even when baked out of his mind and only knowing yeosang for maybe two hours, wooyoung felt more loved than he ever did when he was home was humiliating. wooyoung felt more at home with a man whipped enough to throw out his friend’s cum tissue and a dude that understood boundaries even while jerking off not even a foot away than he did for the last 18 years at home. but even so, even if he loved yeosang and yunho and eventually mingi, san’s roommate that’s obviously in love with him, they never gave him the warmth that seonghwa does. not even san, his soulmate, gave him that comfort. he could never leave san, nothing could separate them, but seonghwa was his home. and maybe san is part of that home too.

\---

“hyung, i’m gonna put it in now, okay?”

“mm, yeah, go ahead, woo.”

they had swapped positions, seonghwa now laying on his back with his arms hooked around his legs, leaving his stretched out hole exposed. he would have felt shy about this a few hours ago, but he understands that wooyoung needs someone to show that he loves him. the tip of woo’s cock slowly breaches his hole and the cauldron of arousal in seonghwa’s stomach boils over. this was supposed to be an intimate moment, but he couldn’t help the moan that leaves his mouth, full-bodied and too loud to be sweet. it does manage to cause a smile to grow on wooyoung’s face, however, so he isn’t too mad about it. 

“does that feel good, hyung? does my cock make you feel all nice and full?” the words sound like something he’d say any other time, full of hubris and laughing as his hyung fell apart underneath him. but this time, he speaks quietly, his hands rubbing affectionately on the flesh of seonghwa’s thighs. they sounded filthy, but he spoke with adoration in his eyes. 

“yes woo, you, ah— you make me feel so good, i love it, wooyoung.” seonghwa hadn’t had sex in far too long. he may have played with himself, but wooyoung’s so thick and hot, not to mention the barbell grazing along his insides. it’s a sensation that he had never felt before and it sent sparks up his spine.

wooyoung pushes down against seonghwa’s upturned thighs, using them to brace against as he pounds into his hyung. loud and high whines pour out of seonghwa’s mouth like a Pythagorean cup, his greed for wanting wooyoung turning against him and leaving him spilling out. seonghwa is hard beyond belief, even though he’s been completely untouched. he isn’t sure if it’s because he’s been touch starved for ages or if wooyoung is the cause. 

the past few weeks have been nothing but torture for seonghwa, his very character being challenged by wearing a fucking maid outfit and sucking his student off like his cock was the fountain of youth. but of course, the more he got to know wooyoung, the more he felt like he was just coming over to a friend’s house and maybe getting some action. they have probably talked more than he and hongjoong had in their entire freshman year. maybe he was just in over his head after not dating anyone for a good few years, but seonghwa honestly liked wooyoung. like _like like_ , not just like. yeah. 

suddenly, seonghwa is shocked out of his thoughts as a lightning bolt of pleasure strikes him, a moan being punched out of his gut. and then it happens again, and he was gonna cum soon at this rate. 

“f-fuck, woo—ahh! fuck, you’re gon’ make me cum, woo.” seonghwa can barely speak, thrust after thrust hitting his prostate dead-on. he swears he can hear a little laugh from wooyoung, and even with the bordering painful pleasure, his gut warms at the sound. 

“cum for me hyung, do it. show me how good i make you feel, how all your pleasure belongs to me.” wooyoung’s pace has slowed down, now angling particularly slow but hard thrusts directly at seonghwa’s prostate. 

seonghwa cums, throat constricting as his body runs tight and his cock weeps, cum spilling onto his stomach and running down the sides. wooyoung’s thrusting becomes too much for him immediately, whining and thrashing. 

“woo—nghh! pull out woo please, t-too much, ‘s too much!” he begs, reaching his hand down to try and pull woo out himself. one last fucked out moan falls from seonghwa as wooyoung pulls out, watching as his hole proceeds to clench around the emptiness, hwa’s chest heaves as he slowly comes back to earth after wooyoung just fucked the hell out of him. 

“you didn’t cum woo…” seonghwa speaks up, watching wooyoung’s still-erect cock twitch, irritated by the sudden pause. 

wooyoung strokes himself lightly, skin barely touching. “do you want to help me, hyung?”

seonghwa slowly sits up, his back cracking but neither acknowledging it beyond a light laugh. he sits on his haunches, feeling his back chill upon exposure to the cold air of the room. even though the air conditioner was running, they didn’t notice until now. wooyoung was also sitting on the backs of his legs, so they were now face to face. without saying another word, hwa leans in and takes wooyoung’s lips in a slow and sweet kiss. and then he leans down, kissing woo’s neck, sternum, a light peck to one of his nipples that makes him shiver, bellybutton, and a final one on the wet tip of his cock. in seconds, he’s swallowing down wooyoung’s length, the warmth and pleasure slamming into him like he had been walking on a frozen lake and the ice had cracked beneath him. a deep, uncharacteristic growl slipped out of him as he slowly rocks into hwa’s mouth. the barbell grazes the roof of his mouth, just like it did inside of him. suddenly wooyoung taps on the underside of his jaw and he stops. 

“hyung, could i fuck your mouth?”

the question sends seonghwa’s head spinning. he might have a lecture tomorrow, but he can always just say it’s allergies. right? he nods softly, making eye contact as his jaw slacks and he sticks his tongue out. he’d have to put it back in, but it made for better effect. wooyoung slaps the tip on hwa’s tongue a few times before shoving himself in fully, feeling the older’s throat constrict deliciously. he checks one more time, raising his eyebrow quizzically. seonghwa nods one last time. taking the go-ahead, wooyoung pulls almost all the way out before slamming in. seonghwa groans, almost in pain, but he slacks his jaw more and exhales through his nose as wooyoung pulls back again. this time, the thrust feels looser and seonghwa’s quiet. woo speeds up his thrusts, and it’s a combination of this and the gross wet sounds coming from seonghwa’s mouth that set him off. with only a few more thrusts, he’s cumming down his hyung’s throat, which he can feel being gulped down and he’d cum a second time just from that feeling if he could. 

after a few short breaths from both of them, they both flop down onto the bed. a beat of silence passes and then they’re giggling. seonghwa gives woo’s shoulder a playful slap. 

“we just did that, huh?” wooyoung mutters out, taking seonghwa’s hand into both of his and fiddling with his fingers. 

“awe, how was baby’s first time” seonghwa quips back, leading to another playful slap. 

“i loved it.” 

“i love you.”

seonghwa doesn’t even know what prompted it, but it felt natural. like he’s already said it a hundred times. the smile that bloomed on wooyoung’s face could light up earth better than the sun. 

“i love you too, hyung.” 

even though wooyoung had already said it, it felt foreign. he did love seonghwa, enough that it would tear him to pieces if he left. he grounded him, made him feel like a normal person in a normal relationship. he felt perfectly cosy and domestic, like they could grow old and have kids and eat dinner at the kitchen table together every night. but he didn’t really want that. he wanted to have fun too. to get drunk and dance on tables and run around the city in the dead of night. he wanted cosy, but he also wanted messy. he wanted seonghwa, but he also wanted san. san who was with him through all his firsts, was the first person to understand him. san understood why wooyoung acted the way he did in the way nobody, not even seonghwa, ever will. 

seonghwa noticed how wooyoung’s expression soured suddenly, how his eyebrows had furrowed and his fingers tightened in his grip. “woo, what’s the matter?”

“hey, seonghwa… how do you feel about san?”

“uh… that’s sudden. i like the kid, i guess? he’s nice and handsome and i know he’s important to you. why?”

“okay, that’s good. now… how do you feel about me dating him?”

“...”

“...”

“...huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so so so sorry this took a while, and on a cliffhanger at that. i sorta just lost the motivation for writing this, but considering there's only a few more chapters left id might as well finish it. i'll say now that chapter 8 is the last chapter plot-wise and the last two are just bonus chapters or epilogue. this chapter is a lot shorter than the last one i think but shh doesn't matter. again thank u so much for reading esp if you've been waiting since february you're a real one ily  
> my twt is @goresnghwa (yes i changed it) if the link doesnt work oh well


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